by Paul Blades
“Cut the shit, Creeper,” the woman spat out. “Do I get my interview or not?”
“Sure, Jana, sure. But there’s been a change in plan. The jet’s gonna take off in a few minutes and we gotta go. Why don’t you come aboard and take a little trip with us? We’re flying to the Bahamas for a vacation and the jet can fly you back in the morning. You can have hours with the boys. Ask them anything you want.”
Jana mulled over this deviation from her expectations. The down side of it would be that she would have to spend six to seven hours in the same confined space with the rock assholes. She knew their reputation for partying and abusiveness to reporters. But the up side was that she would certainly get some good material. And some answers to her questions.
“Let me call my editor,” Jana told the creepy band manager. “I’ve got to let him know I’m going.”
“No problem, Jana,” Creeper replied. “But you’ll have to call once we get in the air. All cell phone frequencies are blocked here. Security reasons. You know.”
The frustrated reporter sighed. She really wanted to call her boyfriend who was waiting for her at home. Her editor she could give two flying fucks about. But the story was too good to miss. It was her boyfriend’s birthday and she had promised that she would be home after the concert to celebrate it. Well, he would get over it, she thought. It wasn’t the first time that she had to break a date. The rock beat was her business and her love and he just had to understand.
“Okay,” she said.
Just then the passenger doors to the limo flew open. Out poured the drunken and high rock stars and three little miniskirted groupies. “Shit,” Jana said to herself. Well maybe she could make the girls part of the story. After all that was one of the reasons that she wanted to interview the band. Something was fishy about the disappearances of girls after the group’s concerts all over Europe and she wanted to get to the bottom of it.
The three groupies ran up the stairs to the passenger section of the jet squealing and laughing. The band was right behind them. Creeper nodded to Jana to indicate that she should follow and she ascended the stairs. Creeper followed.
Roxanne marveled at the sumptuousness of the décor of the interior of the plane. There were plush couches lining the sides and on the wall separating the passenger area from the pilot’s compartment was a huge plasma TV screen. There was a bar in the back and eight comfortable chairs. The floor of the passenger cabin was covered by an intricate oriental rug and the walls were painted in a rainbow of Day-Glo colors. Huge speakers sat in every corner of the room.
“Wow!” Miriam said as she stepped in. “This is amazing!”
“Only the best,” Max offered as he passed her coming in. He placed his hand on her ass and gave her a painful pinch.
“Ow!” Miriam reacted as she jumped at the contact. When she saw who had pinched her, she laughed. Maybe she could do all three of them, she thought to herself. If only there was time.
The door to the passenger compartment slammed shut as Deke and Slaughter hurried over to the bar. Deke ran behind it and pulled a bottle of Stoly from the freezer. “Get your ice cold shooters right here!” he yelled. The girls all scurried to the bar. Max joined them there and he laid out three heavy lines of white powder.
“First a blast, then a snort,” he called out. He rolled a $100 bill up and handed it to Miriam. Miriam gave a wide grin and leaned over and drew the powder up her nose all in one long noisy inhalation.
“Whew!” she exclaimed as she felt the hot rush to her brain. “That’s primo!”
“Like I said,” Max intoned, “only the best!”
Daphne scooted over for her share. Miriam had turned her on to coke a few weeks ago and she loved it. She put the rolled up c-note to her nose and snarfed her line right up. When she was done, her eyes rolled back as a wave of pleasure shot through her brain. “Oh, God!” she blurted out. “That’s incredible!”
Max turned to Roxanne. She was hesitating. She didn’t want this party to get out of hand. She had done coke a few times, but preferred to leave it alone. She had done a couple of lines in the limo while waiting for the band, but she had reached her limit. She didn’t like to get all hyped up. Besides, the last thing she wanted was a drug habit. She was going to be a nurse after all.
“Come on, honey, we’re waiting,” Max told her.
“Come on Roxy,” Miriam scolded her. “Don’t be a party pooper!”
“Yeah, Roxy,” Daphne agreed woozily. “If I did one, you should too.”
Roxanne contemplated the long, heavy line of white powder. She looked up at Max who was smiling at her expectantly.
“Come on, baby, get in tune,” Deke told her.
“Do it! Do it! Do it! Do it!” Miriam started to chant. The others joined in.
“Do it! Do it! Do it! Do it!” they all shouted. Roxanne looked around at the excited, happy, demanding faces. Well, another one couldn’t hurt. And she guessed that the band had access to some really good shit. The line was almost pure white, like it had never been cut. She took the rolled up bill from Daphne and leaned over. “Ngchhhhhhhhh!” She took in the whole line.
“Yeah! Yeah!” everyone shouted.
“Now the shooters!” Deke called out. He had poured out six double shots of crystal clear, freezing cold vodka. The six partiers each took a glass. Max called out, “One, two three!” and six tumblers were upended in unison.
Jana looked on with disdain. If Max and the boys got too fucked up, her interview would go up in smoke. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.
Creeper had gone over to the sound system and put on some heavy rock. This reporter was one royal pain in the ass. She had been asking a lot of embarrassing questions. And, in her column she had said some pretty nasty things about him. Well, he would certainly fix her wagon!
Max had laid out three more lines. “Come on girls, you gotta catch up. We’ve been doing this stuff all night and we’re as high as birds,” he shouted.
Miriam picked up the rolled up hundred and snarfed her line up at once. It took Daphne two tries to get it all. Roxanne hesitated again, but her head was woozy and her heart was pumping fast. It was good coke all right. How many times would she get the chance to do uncut snow? Max had his right hand on her ass and gave it a little squeeze. “Come on baby,” he said. “It’ll do ya good.”
Roxanne, making the worst decision she ever made in her life, acceded. It took her two tries to get it all up her nose. It was like a flash of light going off in her head. Her body was all tingly. And Max’s hand felt so good! She started to wonder what it would be like to fuck him.
Creeper turned to the reporter. “Can I get you a drink?” he asked obsequiously.
“Just a coke,” Jana replied.
“You wanna do a line?” he asked her.
“No, a Coca Cola,” she replied wryly.
Creeper laughed. “Okay,” he said.
He walked over to the bar and took out a can of soda and poured it over a glass of ice. The others had started to dance to the music. Jana looked at the skuzzy rockers and the pretty, scantily clad women. What a waste, she thought. Why do these girls throw themselves at these dirtbags? And Creeper. She had never met him before, but she had heard stories. By the looks of him, he really deserved his name.
The cargo door to the jet closed with a loud ‘clang’. There was the sound of the engines whining to life. After a few moments, the jet began to roll forwards.
“Hey,” Roxanne called out. “Where we going?”
Max turned to Creeper. “Yeah, where we going!”
“The Bahamas,” Creeper yelled back.
“Let’s do another shot,” Deke called out.
Daphne and Miriam rushed to the bar.
“I’m not going to the Bahamas,” Roxanne stated. But her mind was swimming from the drugs and alcohol. She tried to remember what they were doing on the plane.
“Yeah, that’s okay,” Max told her. “We’ll let you off. Now let’s do another shot!�
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He guided the youthful black haired beauty back to the bar. Slaughter had his arm around Daphne’s waist. “Let me see those tits again, honey,” he asked her.
Daphne laughed. “You can’t see my tits,” she yelled back drunkenly. “But you can see my pussy! I left my panties in the limo!” She pulled up her vinyl miniskirt to reveal her finely trimmed love slit, laughing. Slaughter laughed too.
“Let me see! Let me see!” he shouted as he turned her to face him. “I’ll bet that tastes just like honey!” he yelled and he sank to her knees in front of her and buried his face in the crux of her thighs. Daphne struggled to push him away.
“Not here!” she shouted, giggling. Slaughter placed his meaty hands on the back of her thighs and pulled her towards him. He drew them apart and placed his lips on the delicate slit.
“Ohhhhh!” Daphne called out as she felt his tongue draw the length of her cunt. “Ohhhhhhh!”
The slender, long haired blonde melted. “Oh, god!” she called out. The booze and coke had torn away all of her inhibitions. But she needed a little more if she was going to do what she thought she was going to do. “Get me another drink first,” she yelled over the music. “And another line!”
Slaughter stood a wide grin on his face. “Sure baby, sure. What’s your name again?”
“Daphne!” the girl yelled out laughing. “My name’s Daphne!”
“Okay, Debbie,” Slaughter returned. “Let’s have another drink.”
Deke had run over to the bar and poured out six more double shots. Max laid out three more lines.
“How come you’re not doing any?” Roxanne asked. It seemed funny that they were doing all the coke.
“Don’t worry, baby, we’ll get ours,” Max replied grinning.
Jana had taken a seat in one of the chairs and watched the partying disdainfully. It was six hours to the Bahamas. Maybe they would sober up by then. Anyway, it was a free plane ride and, at the worst, she could spend a little time on the beach and get some sun. On the other hand, six hours with these animals would be sheer torture. But she had a book in her bag and once the mongrels passed out, she would be able to get some sleep. And there was always the Creeper. Maybe if he got loaded a little she could get some good gossip out of him.
The red light went on on the cabin wall. The jet had stopped rolling and the engines had commenced a mighty whine. “Come on, everybody,” Creeper yelled out. “Get in your seats and get buckled in.
Roxanne had just finished doing her third line. What was going on? Max held the glass of vodka to her lips and poured its contents into her mouth. Squeezing her cheeks with his other hand to keep her mouth open, he made sure that she swallowed it. The girl, confused, let the fiery liquid pour down her throat. “I can’t go to the Bahamas,” she protested. But she gave no resistance as Max dragged her over to a chair and buckled her in. The strap bisected her plump, braless breasts and the rock star gave them a gentle squeeze.
Miriam, excited beyond all belief, was sitting on Deke’s lap facing him. He had pulled out his wad and she was easing her moist pussy down over it. She had forgotten her underwear too, and all she had to do was pull her skirt up to her waist. She moaned as his manhood slid into her and filled her. Deke groaned with pleasure. He raised her black halter top and seized one of her plump, stiff nipples with his lips.
Slaughter had buckled himself into a chair, but had Daphne on the floor between his knees. He pulled the woozy girl up by her hair and presented his thick cock once more to her lips. Obediently, Daphne opened her mouth and received his manhood. “Wait, wait,” she thought fuzzily as the rigid pole plunged deep into her oral cavity, some part of her consciousness coming back to life. “I did this already!”
CHAPTER FIVE
RUMBLE IN THE JUNGLE
I watched the bodies of the two young college girls sway and bounce as the Land Rover made its way along the small jungle road away from the compound. I was sitting in the back seat on the right hand side and they were in the rear. The force of their arms bound behind their backs pulled their white t-shirts tight against their chests and their breasts jiggled and jerked around delightfully. I felt sorry for them, but my sympathy only went so far. Things being what they were, I knew that their fates were sealed and that I would soon get a closer look at the beauties that were projected so enticingly from their chests. And all the rest of them too. I sensed that the blonde would take to her training easily, if somewhat reluctantly. But the auburn haired girl spelled trouble. She seemed to have a fierce determination and a strong will. I wondered how long it would take for the whips and chains of Rukimo’s African guards to turn her into a willing, compliant whore.
The afternoon was getting late and the road ahead of us was turning dusky. We were still about an hour out from where the whirly bird had dropped us off when the Rover came to a screeching halt. Too stupid to wear a seat belt, I went crashing into the seat ahead of me. I heard the girls squeal as they did likewise.
When I recovered I looked ahead and saw why the vehicle had come to such a rapid stop. We had just turned a hairpin bend when the driver had sighted a blockage in the road. Several large tree trunks had been toppled over and were barring our passage. Just as the driver was about to exit the vehicle to see what was what, fifteen or so heavily armed young African men, dressed in tattered, colorful attire edged their way out of the forest on both sides of us. I looked around and they were behind us too.
“Bandits,” Nick whispered to me. “Shit!”
A tall, sleek man dressed in a jungle fatigue shirt and tight black pants that reached to several inches above his ankles uttered a sharp command. He was wearing a tattered army officer’s brimmed cap, was heavily bearded and had fierce, cold eyes. The scurvy looking group all round us started yelling and screaming. My door was flung open and strong hands pulled me out. I kept my own hands high, not wanting to make any of the desperados think I was going for my pistol. One of them summarily relieved me of it and, holding it up in the air so that his compadres could see it, laughed and yelled something out to them. I figured that the pistol was considered a valuable prize.
When the men saw the women, especially the naked and bound Ms. Judy Meyers, they hooted with glee. From the frying pan into the fire, I thought. But at least the bad guys (as if we were the good guys!) would have some use for them. I realized that I was probably going to meet my maker much earlier than I had supposed.
The loud, boisterous bandits herded us to the rear of the vehicles. Nick’s men all had their hands on their heads and I did likewise. Nick had an angry look on his face. I doubted that he could overcome the greed of the bandits for our weapons and our women with his force of will. This was going to be a delicate negotiation indeed!
The leader of the bandits joined the small circle formed by Nick, his men and me. He was carrying what looked like an old German Lugar in his hand. The other men were armed with an assortment of automatic weapons, single shot bolt rifles and spears. It was a real rag tag bunch. But there were at least two of them for every one of us and that did not bode well.
Two of the bandits had pushed the t-shirts of the shapely young girls up over their breasts. Both were wearing serviceable but dainty white bras and these too were soon lifted, freeing the plump, full orbs that I had a short while ago longed to see. The girls whined and protested from under their hoods, the silver tape over their mouths still muting them. The men laughed and the pale, heavy tits were prodded and poked. The leader shouted out another loud command and the men all fell silent immediately. He walked over to the two black hooded young women and assessed each pair of breasts carefully. He made some kind of salacious comment and the men all laughed. Ms. Meyers, of course was stark naked. The remnants of Nick’s discharge was caked on her inner thighs. The leader pushed his fingers into her bush covered crevasse abruptly. The hooded and gagged woman moaned and cried out as she struggled to free herself of the grasp of the bandit behind her.
If she thought that she was in t
rouble before, she was in deep shit now. I imagined her bound to a stake in a rude native hut, spending her life as the fucktoy of these barbarians and living on the roots and slugs that they would feed her. I didn’t know what fate Klitzman would have in store for her, but he rarely wasted women and so she would probably have been at least marginally better off. She was a little too old for the tourists on Klitzman’s Isle, but I’m sure there would be a use for her.
Nick finally spoke up. I don’t know what he said, but it made the bandit leader angry as a hornet. He pulled his Lugar and waved it around Nick’s head yelling rabidly at him. Nick responded to him in kind. I imagined that he was promising the bandits the wrath of the government if anything should happen to us. But these men didn’t look like they feared the government. My bet was that they had their hideout so far deep in the jungle that it would take a regiment a year to find it. And the villagers of the area would never give them up. Revenge would be sure and swift.
The leader raised his pistol high in the air and called out something to his men. They all shouted something back in unison. Three times he led them in some form of cheer. There was a bandit standing next to me to my right. He had slung over his shoulder three of the automatic rifles he had taken from our vehicle. He was tall and dark and sweaty and when he opened his mouth to cheer I could see that he was missing several of his more important front teeth.
Hey, I was scared, no shit! But, oddly, as I stood there waiting for the men to decide to shoot us and make off with our women, I realized that they were really no different than me. After all, I was a bandit of sort. I had robbed and killed. I had partaken of the flesh of unwilling women. And I depended on the munificence and superior knowledge of my criminal leaders to supply me with the niceties of life and to guide my conduct. I looked at the bandit standing to my right and wondered if I would be any different if I had been born a poor African. Everything was relative. I had prowled the streets of Atlantic City seeking to enforce my boss’s criminal will. He prowled the jungles of this god forsaken country doing the same.